Runaways
by VinnyLB
Summary: She was too young to remember. His memories were taken from him. But the two runaways had met before.


_Runaways_

by Vanessa

_She was too young to remember._

_His memories had been taken from him._

_But the two runaways had met before._

She was cold, tired, and very hungry, and it was dark outside, looking like it might start raining again. She should really go back and save her escape for some other time, maybe in the morning when it was bright and warm and everything looked familiar. Except she couldn't remember which way was "back." How long had she been running? How far away was she? She was lost, her legs hurt, and her eyes were beginning to sting again.

"Don't cry, little bulldozer," Grandpa would say. "If something's standing in your way, just run it over. Knock it down, like you always do."

Where was Grandpa now? Why did he send her away to live with these mean people? If he had let her and Casey stay with him, she wouldn't have had to come to this place, and she wouldn't have had to beat up that other girl, and she wouldn't have had to run away. She wouldn't be lost now.

Casey was going to run away, too, she thought as she sat down on the wet stairs of an apartment building. Or so he said. He told her he would find her, and he didn't. Traitor. She wrapped her short arms around her legs and hugged them tightly, trying to keep warm. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't.

It started to rain again, and she heard a sound in the distance, a loud banging noise. Thunder? No, it didn't sound like thunder, too close and too sharp, more like... Like a gun being fired. This was a bad neighborhood. There were gangs here, like the Jokerz, and she wasn't safe. She had to hide.

There was an alley beside the apartment building, and an old, rusty dumpster was the perfect cover for such a small girl. She leapt off the bottom step and ran toward it, ducking into the shadows behind it, just in time to hear another sound coming down the street: a loud, rhythmic clanging noise like someone beating a spoon against a metal pot. It was coming closer, growing louder, then suddenly, abruptly, it stopped.

She waited a moment, listening, hoping that the source of the sound was gone. Her curiosity got the better of her, as it often did, and she risked peeking out from behind her hiding place.

It might have been a better idea to stay out of sight.

There was someone standing at the end of the alley, but it wasn't exactly a person. It was made entirely of metal in the vague shape of a human, but its arms and legs were too long, too thin, with metal hands and fingers ending in claws. Its torso also seemed out of proportion, too large and bulky. The panels on its chest looked like they might be used to store something. Its most horrifying feature was its head... or lack thereof. It didn't have a face, no eyes or mouth or anything even remotely human, just a metal horseshoe shape that turned towards her when she gasped.

He couldn't see her, she told herself. How could he, with no eyes? She just had to stay still and quiet, and he would move on.

But the robot was already running towards her, pushing her back behind the dumpster and ducking out of sight with her. She would have screamed had it not told her in a low, calm tone, "Stay quiet. If they find me, they'll kill me." A male voice, which meant that the "it" was really a "he." And even though he looked strange and a little scary, she wasn't going to let him be killed.

Heavy footsteps came closer, and the robot shrank back into the shadows. She heard voices at the end of the alley, people shouting things like "Did you see which way it went?" "It couldn't have gotten far!" and finally, "This way!" The footsteps retreated, and the robot moved out of the shadows.

She wasn't about to let him go, not now, not with the new promise of danger and adventure. She stepped forward and grabbed the robot's arm. "Wait! Who are you? Why were those people chasing you?"

The strength of a five-year-old girl should not have been enough to stop a giant metal robot, yet somehow, it was. He paused, turning back to look at her. Or so she assumed. It was hard to tell where a faceless robot was looking.

With renewed confidence, the little girl smiled up at the robot. "My name is Ro Rowen. What's your name?"

"I... don't have a name," he replied. "I'm a Z-8 synthoid prototype, built by the government for military training."

She wasn't entirely sure what the second part meant, but the first part was clear enough. "Z," she said, grinning. "Your name is Z. Why do those people want to hurt you?"

"They are chasing me... because I ran away."

Ro stared at him a moment longer, then turned her bright blue eyes to the ground. "So did I. I don't like it at the girls' home. I want to find Casey, so we can find Mom and Dad. Why did _you_ run away, Z? Are you looking for someone, too?"

"I don't think anyone can help me." Z sounded almost sad. Robots weren't supposed to sound sad. "I don't know where I'm going or what I'm going to do."

"So you're lost. Just like me."

"In a way... yes. But I know that I must not let them catch me. If they do, they'll take away everything I know. Everything I am."

She frowned. "No one can take away who you _are_."

"They can erase my memories... reprogram me. Turn me into someone completely different. I am to be part of another government synthoid project. They call it the 'Zeta Project.' I... don't want to be changed."

"Then you don't have to!" A plan was already forming in Ro's, and she grinned up at her new robotic friend. She could see it now: herself and Z on the run, him on a quest for his freedom, her on a search for her family. It would be fun! It would be exciting! It would be–

"It would be too dangerous," Zee said when she told him about her ideas. "For both of us. You're too young, Ro. To easily hurt, and you saw that the people chasing me will use any method necessary to bring me in. If anything where to happen to you, I would be responsible for it."

Disappointed, Ro looked away again. "I understand. I'm too little. I would slow you down, and you might get hurt because of me."

"Ro–"

"But I'll get bigger." She looked up at him again, determined and stubborn. Grandpa's little bulldozer. "I'll get older and tougher, and I'll be able to take care of myself. _And_ you. And if you're still running away, you can come back and find me, and take me with you... right, Z?" The robot was silent. She frowned. "If you don't say yes, I'm going to follow you anyway."

Z didn't say anything at first, but in the end, he couldn't win against the stubborn little girl. "Ten years," he told her. "Stay where you are, and I'll come back in ten years."

She grinned and threw her arms around him, not caring that he didn't return the hug; he was a robot, and robots didn't know how to hug. That was okay. In ten years, she would teach him everything about being human.

When he returned her to the girls' home only minutes later, she reminded him of their promise and let him go. The thought didn't occur to her that she would never see him again. Z would escape, she knew it. So she didn't let it bother her, didn't worry obsessively over whether or not he was safe.

And in time, she forgot.

She forgot everything. She forgot her parents, how they looked, how they sounded. She forgot that she had ever lived with her grandparents, couldn't remember Grandpa's nickname for her. She forgot Casey, and the fact that she even had a brother. And she forgot Z. But that was okay, because Z was a robot. _He_ would remember.

She didn't realize that he was captured, only a few years later, and sent to the top secret laboratory Nosis for reprogramming. They erased his mind and his memories, but she had been right– they couldn't take away who he was. Maybe that was why Selig had designed that extra circuit module. To help him remember.

Maybe the robot he used to be was coming back to him now, as her own memories were.

"Ro? Is something wrong?"

She looked up at the young man driving the car. Black hair and amazing blue eyes that watched her, concerned by her silence, and under that, the metal body of an upgraded Z-8 synthoid prototype. A robot who had kept his promise, whether he realized it or not.

"I'm fine, Zee. Just... remembering."

He smiled as if he knew what she meant, and turned his attention back to the road ahead.

-End-

See my profile for the link to my new site, TZP: Nosis.


End file.
